So Much For Forever
by Julia in Reverse
Summary: What happens when forever is cut short? It's 2008, and Cain and Riff have been reincarnated in two teenage boys that are both plauged by dreams of their past life. Cain suddenly remembers it all when they meet, but Riff has forgotten everything....
1. Chapter 1

My second Godchild fic is here! Woot! I got this idea from reading something, or watching something, I can't remember what, though. Reincarnation is something that's always fascinated me, and when I heard about it recently, I was all "ZohmigodgottawriteCainandRifffffffffff" Heh, heh. This fic is a lot harder to write than my other one, because it's more serious, and I want the boys modernized, but still themselves, you know? So, I know on my profile it says that once I start something it's all I can do to put it down for a minute, but you might have to wait for chapters with this. Sorry! I want to put out the best I can for you guys, so be patient with me, okay? I'll do my best not to keep you waiting for TOO long, but no promises. OTL Anyway, enjoy! :D

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Prologue

_"Are you ready to accompany me on the road to Hell?...It's not too late to regain your former happiness."  
"That would mean destroying my only reason to live. Is it your wish that I should die?"_

_Forever. You promised forever…_

---

"Samuel?" Aleecia Ann Grady turned around so that she could look at her son, who was sitting in the back seat of her car.

Cain started, yanked out of his reverie by his mother's voice. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Are you feeling all right, sweetie?" she asked, reaching back to feel his forehead, pushing back the black bangs that fell down into his shockingly green eyes.

Cain moved out from under his mother's touch. "I'm fine," he insisted, unbuckling and making to get out of the car.

"You sure you don't want me to come in with you?" she asked anxiously.

"Mother, I'm fifteen years old. I don't need you to hold my hand anymore."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right. Have a good day, alright?"

He nodded and shut the door, then walked up the front steps of his new high school.

His mother watched him go, chewing on her bottom lip. Samuel, who actually preferred his middle name, Cain, had always been prone to strange dreams and periods of time where he would just zone out completely. However, ever since she and her husband had announced they were moving to their son, both had gotten much stronger and far more common. What had previously been rare occurrences and a minor difficulty had now become something that happened once or twice daily. Cain would space out at the most inconvenient of times and it was getting harder and harder to bring him back to reality. He would wake in a cold sweat almost every night, muttering incomprehensibly and was rarely able fall back to sleep. Aleecia was worried that lack of sleep, combined with his daydreams would prove dangerous.

Nevertheless, Cain had managed to convince her to let him go to a regular school, instead of the cyber school that she had suggested. He'd always strived for normalcy, and a cyber school was anything but "normal" in his book.

Aleecia's eyes were still trained on the back of her son's head as he disappeared into the building, and then her cell phone rang. She fumbled around for it, and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Cain gone?" came her husband's voice.

"He just went in," she told him, not quite managing to disguise her uneasiness.

"Don't worry," her husband told her gently.

"I'm his mother. It's my job to worry," she insisted.

"He'll be fine," he soothed. "He's a good kid. He's got a decent head on his shoulders, he's resourceful, smart, and his heart's in the right place."

"But what if something bad happens?" she fretted. "He's so impetuous."

"In case you haven't noticed," her husband pointed out wryly, "Cain has an incredible talent for self-preservation. I really doubt we have anything to worry about." He had a point. Cain had always been able to make incredible escapes from near death and other dangerous situations. He wasn't necessarily _careful_, but he was certainly an extremely lucky boy.

"You're right," Aleecia sighed. "I'll be home soon."

"Alright. I'll see you in ten."

She hung up the phone and pulled away from the curb, still trying to reassure herself.

_____

As Mrs. Grady's Volkswagen proceeded down the street a sleek, black Mercedes pulled in. The driver turned to look at the boy in the back of the car. "Master Riff?"

The young man glanced up. His ice blue eyes bored into his chauffeur's face, and the man looked down. "We're here, sir."

"Yes, Nigel," came the vague reply. "I am aware."

Riff Reynolds stepped gracefully out of the car. His hair, so blond it was the palest shade of blue, gleamed in the morning sunlight. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked slowly and deliberately toward the doors of the school. He was the son of an enormously wealthy politician and he moved in a refined manner with a hint of superiority, as if, while he didn't want to bring attention to his position, he couldn't help walking as if he knew it. He was anything but cocky; in fact he barely noticed anyone enough to be cocky*. Nigel had been working for the Reynolds' for well over fifteen years, and he'd made the observation that their son, while not unkind, was just a rather detached young fellow. He seemed to live in his own world, far apart from the rest of mankind.

These two boys, as different as they were, were about to encounter something that would change both of their lives forever; each other.

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* This is an observation from the point of view of the chauffeur, not the actual truth. Riff is a very perceptive person, and he notices everything (does that sound too redundant? Sorry, OTL). He_ is _very detached, and he doesn't really like interacting with people, but he isn't as out of it as people who know him think in this story. Also, what do you think of the role reversal, with Riff being the rich one and Cain being a normal person? I thought it was a pretty cool idea, but then again, who am I to judge my own work? OTL See you in the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Cain knew he wasn't normal. He'd always known; even as a child. It was something he'd learned to accept with grace and dignity.

At first, his parents had insisted he was being silly. They'd told him that he was just like everyone else. But soon it had become quite apparent that they were wrong; very wrong. How many five year olds do you know that wake up in the middle of the night after having dreams about tarot cards, resurrecting the dead, and the end of the world? How many more scream in terror at the mere mention of the name "Delilah?" Even now, although he no longer screamed, Cain could not hear that name without having a shiver of dread travel down his spine. Every time the Plain White T's song came on the radio, he jumped to change the station before the opening notes had finished.

As he'd grown up, he'd had several vivid daydreams of running through the streets of old London, even though he'd never been there, and he'd recall bits and pieces of conversation; some pleasant, some frightening. He didn't know why this happened to him, nor what any of it meant, but if he was sure of anything at all, it was that it was connected somehow. The dreams, the visions, all of it; and he didn't know how he knew this, either. It was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that everything was linked together.

Cain reflected on this as he loaded a few things into his locker. He couldn't help but feel as if something big was coming; like the missing piece to the puzzle of his visions that had eluded him for years, the key to what it meant and how it fit together was getting closer. He could feel it.

He shut his locker and looked down at the map in his hand, when he heard, "Hi."

Turning, he saw a short, olive skinned girl with long brown hair tied back into a bun and dark eyes standing next to him, cheeks pink. Her uniform, a knee length navy skirt and white blouse with a blue tie, looked much better on her than most of the other girls, and even if she was nervous, her stature clearly expressed that she knew that.

"I'm Tami Wilson," she said. "With an 'i'."

Cain raised an eyebrow and leaned luxuriously against his locker, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Well, Tami with an 'i,' Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, I just wanted to be the first to welcome you to Goode," Tami said, holding out her hand.

"Why, thank you," he replied, bringing her hand gently to his lips.

Her blush darkened. "Uhm, uh," she stuttered.

Cain chuckled, and a redheaded boy jogged over. "Hey Tami," he said. He looked at Cain. "Who's your friend?"

"Cain Grady," Cain said, shaking the boy's hand.

"CJ," he replied.

"Cain," Tami mused. "That's an interesting name."

"It's my middle name. My first is Samuel, but I prefer Cain."

"Ah," Tami said.

"Where ya headed?" CJ asked.

"English in 101," Cain said.

"Us too!" Tami said excitedly.

"Follow us," CJ said, leading the way.

The morning was a bit of a blur of useless information and Tami's incessant chatter. The good thing was that CJ was pretty cool. Cain actually enjoyed talking to him, which was more than he could say for most people he'd met throughout the course of his life.

By lunch, Cain had officially been accepted as their friend. CJ and Tami offered him a place to sit at their lunch table and they acted as if he'd always been there, instead of him just arriving.

"So," CJ said when Tami left to get food. "Whaddya think about Tami?"

"What do you mean?" Cain asked.

"I'm pretty sure she's crazy about you." He didn't sound too happy about that.

"Really? I thought she threw herself at everyone like that," Cain grinned.

CJ chuckled. "Not really."

"Hm. Well, she's nice and all but don't worry. I'm not interested. She's all yours," Cain said, leaning back in his chair.

CJ looked both relieved and embarrassed. "Is it that obvious?"

Cain nodded. "Yeah. It kinda is."

"You got a girlfriend back in New York?" CJ said.

Cain shook his head. "Nah."

"Really? I thought you would've had like, four."

Cain laughed. "Nope. Not for me. I'm not all that interested in girls, actually."

CJ frowned, but then he caught on. "OH."

Cain winced; so much for having friends. "That's not normally how I tell people, but yeah."

"Cool."

"What?" Cain blinked. _Cool_?

"Yeah. That's cool."

"Seriously?"

CJ nodded. "What? Did people freak out when you told them back east?"

"They would have if I'd told them. I would have got beaten up if anyone had known."

"Ah. Well, you won't have to worry about that here. We're a lot more open minded about that type of thing on the west coast. I won't tell anyone if you don't want though."

"Thanks," Cain said. He believed CJ, but still, he didn't really want it to be public knowledge he was gay.

Cain made his way to his last class alone. He was in a pretty good mood, better than he thought he'd be. As many times he'd told his mother he'd be fine over the past few days, he hadn't been too sure himself, what with the visions intensifying. But the day had been a good one, and so he was not prepared for what happened when he got to the room.

He opened the door and scanned the room. He moved to turn back to the teacher, but froze as his eyes caught a flash of blue. His eyes locked with those of a beautiful boy with blue-blond hair and ice blue eyes. Without warning, every dream and nightmare, vision and bit of conversation that had haunted him since before he could walk flooded back to him plus so much more with an intensity that took his breath away. He gripped the desk, gasping, and the only thing he could think of was one word.

"Riff?"

And then he blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

Riff had always known he was strange. The nightmares and visions that had shadowed him since before he could remember – and, for some reason, inexplicably gotten stronger, as of late – could not possibly be something the typical child experiences.

Of course, Riff had never told anyone about this particular abnormality. He'd never formed an attachment strong enough to anybody to be able to tell them something of that weight; not even his parents.

_Although_, he reflected as he sat quietly at the edge of his high school cafeteria, _perhaps, with my family the way it is, it's not all that odd that I haven't formed a bond with them – or anyone else for that matter._

His father was a politician, and one of the most influential men in San Francisco. He and his wife were so caught up in his job and their social status that they spared nary a thought on their sixteen year old son, unless it was to criticize.

The lack of attention didn't bother Riff much, for he was naturally reserved and wasn't much for spending a lot of time with others, but his parents' clear obsession with money and power, and their exasperation at him for not sharing it, irritated him. He would much rather have a simple life where he could do as he pleased, than one where he was thrust into social situations and pestered to follow in the steps of his father. However, it was more than that; having people there to wait on him hand and foot and be there at his beck and call made him exceedingly uncomfortable. He felt as if _he_ should be the one waiting on others, not the other way around.

"Excuse me?"

Riff blinked, looking away from the window across the room, and saw Tami Wilson, a pleasant freshman girl who lived a street or so away from him, standing there with a hand on the chair in front of him. He smiled faintly. "Yes?"

"Is anyone sitting here?"

His smile became more defined. It should have been obvious by now that he always sat alone, and yet she felt the need to ask anyway. Sometimes her politeness amused him. "There is not. Feel free to take it if you need it."

She smiled back at him. "Thank you," she said as she carried it back to the table she shared with that foolish boy who was obviously madly in love with her, but too self conscious to say anything. Today, they seemed to have found a new companion, the reason they were in need of an extra chair. Riff could only see him from the back, but he assumed that it was the new freshman that he'd overheard several people talking about. Apparently the boy was a very good looking one, and he was intelligent as well.

As he watched, Tami began to flirt shamelessly with the new boy, proving the good looking part of the gossip true. The only boys she gave the time of day to were those who amused her and those who were exceptionally attractive. The poor CJ kid was probably going crazy, although from what Riff observed he was either hiding it well, or found no threat in the newcomer.

Riff realized he was staring, which, of course, is terribly rude, so he picked up his tray of half-eaten lunch, and threw it out on his way to his last class. The halls were empty because the period was only half over. Mr. Evans cocked an eyebrow when Riff opened the door.

"It's a tad early to be switching classes, isn't it, Mr. Reynolds?" he said, setting down his newspaper.

"Well," Riff said mildly, making his way to his desk, "I finished my lunch early, and I figured you wouldn't mind if I came by."

"You realize I could write you up for cutting class," Mr. Evans pointed out.

"You won't though," Riff told him, sitting.

His teacher chuckled. "Ah, I suppose you're right." He paused to for a sip of coffee. "I'm just trying to keep you from making this a habit. You're teacher next year might not be as tolerant as I am."

"I'll take your word for it, sir." Riff pulled out a book, shrugged out of his navy uniform jacket, adjusted his blue and white tie slightly, and stretched out elegantly to read for the remaining twenty minutes of the period.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of his lunch period, he returned his book to his bag and waited for the others in his class to arrive, and he was surprised to see a new face in the mix. _I wonder what he's doing here_, Riff thought. _This is a sophomore's class_. He had only seen him from the back, and only briefly, but it was most certainly the new freshman boy. He wore his black hair longer than most boys and his bangs fell into large, startlingly green eyes. His whole frame was lithe and narrow, as was his face, but it was also soft at the same time, almost like that of a female's. He was truly the most beautiful boy Riff had ever seen.

The boy scanned the room, and they locked eyes. There was a stirring sensation in the pit of Riff's stomach and the back of his mind, as if the boy's gaze triggered something he was supposed to have remembered but forgot. As Riff watched, the gorgeous green eyes got even bigger, and he thought he saw the boy mouth his name, and then, without warning, he collapsed.

There was a collective panic as everyone lurched forward to help, before Mr. Evans pushed them back. "Relax people," he barked.

He bent down and said, "It's alright, he's only fainted. I need someone to help take him to the nurse, though."

"I'll do it," Riff found himself saying. Every head in the room swiveled toward him and a few gasped.

Mr. Evans raised his eyebrows again. "Very well, get up here."

Riff pushed his way upfront and helped his teacher to pick the boy up. He was surprisingly light, and Riff was able to carry him on his own.

"You got him?" Mr. Evans asked.

Riff nodded. "I'll take him. No need for you to go."

"Okay, people," Mr. Evans said, clapping his hands. "Back to your seats. Nothing to see here."

Riff pushed the door open with his back and started walking down the hall. He couldn't help but stare at the boy in his arms, with his head lolling back gracefully, his long eyelashes kissing his cheek bones. The boy's scent wandered up to Riff's nose, a delicious mix of soap, laundry detergent, and something else he couldn't place. It was almost intoxicating.

It was all too soon that the nurses' office came into view, and he tore his eyes away from the boy's pale face.

"O-oh my!" Mrs. Johansson exclaimed jumping up from her desk with an agility that was quite impressive for someone of her advanced years. "What happened here?"

"I'm not sure, Mrs. Johansson," Riff said, setting the boy down on the bed-like tables they keep in school nurses' offices. "He just collapsed."

"Oh, poor dear," she said. "There isn't much we can do at this point except wait for him to come to. His mother did tell me that he was fragile…"

"You know him?" Riff asked, head snapping up.

"Yes. This is Samuel Grady. His family moved onto my street the other day," the nurse said, rummaging around for an ice pack.

"Samuel," Riff mused, frowning. That didn't sound right to him. This boy didn't look like a Samuel.

"Yes, that's his name, although he does prefer his middle name." She clucked disapprovingly. "Cain. What kind of name is that, anyway?"

Ah, that sounded better. Riff looked down at the boy on the table. It seemed to fit him more than Samuel did. Cain…

"Do you need a pass, dear?" Mrs. Johansson asked.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Riff said, jumping slightly.

"I asked if you needed a pass," the nurse repeated gently. "There's nothing you can here, so you might as well go back to class."

Riff nodded. "Of course. I won't need a pass, though. Mr. Evans knows where I am."

"Alright, dear," the nurse said, smiling kindly.

Riff turned to leave but then he heard his name. "Riff?"

He looked back, and Cain was laying on the table, eyes open, staring directly at him. A wide grin broke out on his face, lighting it up like a beacon.

Riff frowned, confused. How is it that this boy knew his name? "Yes?"

"Oh, it _is_ you!" Cain sat up abruptly, causing the nurse to cry out, "Careful!!!" and rush over with the ice pack. He pushed her away, wobbling as he stood up. "I can't believe it!" he cried in a voice that was similar to music in Riff's ears. However, he was now thoroughly lost.

"Excuse me, but what are you talking about? Have we met?"

Cain's ecstatic expression faltered for a moment, but then returned. "Stop kidding! It's me. It's Cain!"

Riff blinked. Was that supposed to mean something to him? "I'm sorry, but I've no idea what you're talking about. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to class to report that you're alive."

Riff turned again, but as he did, he saw Cain's stunning face crumple in despair. Even so, he walked out of the office.

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This chapter was painful to write. Believe me, I didn't WANT to do this, but it had to be done. I tried to convince them that it was too depressing to write, but they insisted (yes, the characters talk to me, I'm not nuts, okay!?) that it was the way things had to be for the story to make sense. Please don't kill me, or use your reviews to send me hate mail. It will get better, I promise! As I type this, they are revealing to me the next part of the story! *hides from angry readers*


	4. Chapter 4

So, my sister reads the chapters before I post them, and she told me that this was "too short" and that "not enough happened." I'll let you guys be the judge of that though. I'll try to make the next chapter longer and more eventful, but I felt like this ended where it should. Plus I think I like writing around Riff's perspective better. Oh well. Enjoy guys and please review!!

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_I have no idea what you're talking about…I have no idea what you're talking about._

Cain felt as if he was falling through a black, bottomless pit. He sat down heavily on the table as the nurse continued to fuss around him.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Are you all right? How are you feeling?" she said.

"I'm fine," Cain lied. He was, of course, not at all fine, but Mrs. Johansson was asking about his physical well-being, not his mental or emotional.

"Shall I call your mother?" she asked.

Cain started. "No, no, that's unnecessary. I have low blood sugar, and I didn't eat lunch today. I guess that wasn't such a good idea." He gave a weak, sheepish smile. It wasn't a _complete_ lie; he _hadn't_ eaten lunch

Mrs. Johansson threw her hands up. "Oh my goodness, young man! Your parents told me you were intelligent! Wait here while I fetch you something to eat." She bustled out of the office, muttering under her breath about responsibility.

Cain put his head in his hands, glad for the time to think. He couldn't believe it; any of it. Seeing Riff in that classroom had brought back an entire lifetime of memories from the time when he had been Lord Cain Hargreaves, Earl of Poisons. It had been a time when his green eyes were partially gold, a side effect from his parentage, and he'd had scars on his back from being whipped night after night when he was a young child; a time of fear, despair, loneliness…and love. Riff had been his only thing to live for, and was probably the reason he was sitting there in that nurse's office just then; their love had survived for a century, even in death, and brought them back together once more.

Or had it? Cain sucked in a breath, as a sharp pain pierced through his chest. Seeing Riff had brought everything back to him, but Riff still had yet to remember anything, it seemed. Riff would remember him, surely, though; he had promised him forever and Riff never broke his promises.

But…what if this _wasn't_ Riff, just a boy who happened to look exactly like him?

_No_, Cain reasoned with himself. That was absurd. Why else would locking eyes have such an effect on him? This _had_ to be Riff; it HAD to be. He just needed a little more time.

"Well, here you go," came Mrs. Johansson's voice, and Cain straightened sharply. She emerged into the office carrying a tray of food. Cain suppressed a grimace; he hated eating meals in the middle of the day. He would much rather just wait for tea at home.

"Thank you," is what he said though, graciously accepting the tray. It held a hamburger, some milk, and a Jell-O cup.

Cain ate in silence with the nurse watching to make sure he ate every bit. This irritated him, slightly, but he figured he didn't have much choice in the matter. He used the opportunity to do some more thinking.

He didn't know much about reincarnation, but he was sure that that must be what had happened with him, because he could not recall any other explanation for having had a past life, and if that boy truly was his old manservant, he must have had – and still have – dreams and such similar to what he, Cain, had previously experienced. That was really the only thing that would make any sense. And if them two of them had alike situations, then there must be something to trigger remembrance for Riff as well. Cain had had a simple trigger, but Riff's must be something that wasn't so easily found.

Cain stopped eating for a moment, a fervent, determined gleam in his brilliant green eyes. _Well, Riff_ he thought_, it seems you have forgotten me. It's been almost a hundred and twenty years since I last saw you, and I refuse to lose you a second time. I'm not going to stand for it. You will remember me, no matter what I have to do; you WILL._

That evening was a rough one, for, against her word, Mrs. Johansson told his mother about him passing out. _So much for doctor-patient confidentiality_, he complained silently as he explained to his parents that he was all right. They hadn't believed him, and Aleecia had been ready to call the school and withdraw him, when he had finally managed to convince them to let him stay, much to his relief. Then he had retired to a sleepless night, researching and planning.

The next day, exhausted but determined, Cain reentered Mr. Evans' Accelerated World History with one thought in mind – Riff.

"Ah, how nice of you to join us conscious Mr. Grady," Mr. Evans said. "Feeling any better?"

"Much, thank you," Cain told him.

"Good. You'll be seated next to Mr. Reynolds back there." Mr. Evans pointed and Cain's heart skipped a beat when he saw he was being directed to the empty desk beside Riff.

He sat down with a sidelong glance at the boy beside him. If Riff was feeling anything at all he was showing nothing, but that didn't deter Cain a bit. He turned, and said in his open, friendly manner, "Hello. I realize you must think I'm insane after my behavior yesterday afternoon, and I wish to apologize. I wasn't feeling quite myself, as I'm sure you can imagine." He stopped, waiting for a reply. Being in such close proximity with him after so many years and having to repress the urge to throw his arms around the other boy's neck was almost painful, but Cain kept himself in check. _All in good time_, he told himself. _Patience is a virtue_.

Riff nodded, but said nothing.

Cain sucked in a breath, then held out his hand. "Cain Grady, by the way."

Riff looked over at him for a moment. "Riff Reynolds," he said in a voice that was neither cold nor unfriendly, merely confused.

Cain suppressed a grin; confusion was good. This way going better than he'd thought. _Soon, my dear Riff, you shall be mine once more._


	5. Chapter 5

Riff tensed, although not visibly, when Mr. Evans directed Cain to the empty seat beside him. Half of him wanted to jump to his feet and reveal the boy's insanity, before insisting he be seated _anywhere_ else, for there were several empty desks in the room other than the one next to him – and what was he doing in here anyway? It was a sophomore's class! But the other half – the larger half – was oddly…elated? Yes, that was the word, although it was a new emotion for Riff. He was secretly thrilled at the chance to get to know this beautiful, crazy boy.

It was because of this that Riff said nothing as Cain sat down next to him. The scent of the boy's skin drifted over to him as Cain moved, and, although it was faint, Riff's heart suddenly picked up in double time.

From the corner of his eye, Riff watched as Cain turned to face him, a pleasant, friendly smile on his face.

"Hello," he said, his voice once again striking Riff as musical. "I realize you must think I'm insane after my behavior yesterday afternoon, and I wish to apologize. I wasn't feeling quite myself, as I'm sure you can imagine."

Riff nodded, not trusting his voice. He was so very confused. The previous day, this very same boy had fainted right before his eyes and then started acting as if they had known each other for years, pulling his name out of no where, and acting in quite an alarming manner, and now he was perfectly normal. Did he have some sort of personality disorder? And was he always so formal? He talked like he came from an earlier time period.

"Cain Grady, by the way," Cain said, holding out a hand for Riff to shake.

He ignored the hand, but risked glancing over. "Riff Reynolds," he said, not quite managing to mask the confusion he felt.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Cain's face, but was gone so fast Riff wasn't sure if it had actually been there or if he'd imagined it. "Also," Cain continued, flipping open his text book as Mr. Evans proceeded with the lesson up front, "I'd like to thank you for taking me to the nurse yesterday, and then waiting to see if I was all right. That was very kind of you."

"Uhm, right," Riff said uncomfortably. "It was nothing, really."

"Oh, but it was," Cain said, his intensely green eyes boring into Riff's face, making him go pink, even though he wasn't even really looking at Cain.

"Having a nice little chat back there, gentlemen?" Mr. Evans asked, and everyone turned to look at them. "Getting to know each other?"

Riff turned several shades of red, but Cain, unruffled, flashed a charming smile towards their teacher. "I was actually just thanking Riff here for taking such good care of me yesterday."

"I see," Mr. Evans said, a slightly amused twinkle playing in his eyes. "Well, I'm trying to teach a rather fascinating lesson about Nebuchadnezzar II and the Gardens of Babel. Perhaps thank yous can be held until _after_ class?"

"Of course, Mr. Evans," Cain said, with another smile. "I do apologize for interrupting."

"Apology accepted, Mr. Grady. May I proceed, then?"

"Please do," Cain agreed, poising his pencil above his notebook to take notes.

Mr. Evans chuckled and resumed talking. Riff glanced at Cain, who winked, causing him to feel as if he'd been punched in the stomach – hard – and then he tried to concentrate on the story of the Babylonian king.

Class was over quickly once Riff managed to ignore Cain being two feet away from him. When it ended, Cain turned to him again, though, making him once again feel both embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Well, Riff," he said, standing, "thank you, again."

Riff stood as well. "Really, don't mention it. It's not that big of a deal."

Cain smiled sweetly at him, and said, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then. I have a bit of a walk ahead of me."

"You walk home?" Riff asked curiously, making his way toward the door.

Cain nodded. "Yes."

"How far away do you live?"

"Oh," Cain said airily, shrugging. "A mile or so. Not too unbearably far."

Riff frowned, and before he could stop himself, he said, "Would you like a ride?"

Cain's face lit up, and Riff winced slightly. He felt as if he'd been set up for that, although why Cain would do that, he didn't know. "That would be wonderful, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no trouble," Riff said, mentally kicking himself.

Together, they weaved through the crowd, Riff painfully aware that he could easily just reach out and touch Cain. He frowned. Why was he thinking like that? This was just another boy…a devastatingly attractive boy, but even so. Why should he react like this?

"This way," Riff said when they were outside, motioning with his head to the black Mercedes where Nigel was waiting.

"Nigel," Riff said in greeting.

"Hello sir," Nigel said, just as he spotted Cain trailing behind. He did nothing to hide his shock.

Riff glanced over his shoulder as casually as he could. "Oh, right. We have a detour to make today, Nigel. This is Cain Grady."

Nigel's mouth opened and closed several times, but in the end, he just said, "As you wish, sir," and opened the door to the back seat of the car.

Riff slid inside, Cain following, with a bright, "Very nice to meet you," to Nigel. He turned to Riff. "This really is very nice of you."

Riff busied himself with his seatbelt, replying, "You didn't have to say yes, you know," without looking at Cain.

Cain laughed, and Riff glanced over. He couldn't help but notice how smug the other boy looked. "Put your seat belt on," he instructed, before crossing his legs and looking out the window.

Nigel turned around from the front seat. "Where to, sir?" he asked.

"Don't ask me," Riff said irritably. Nigel turned to Cain, who pleasantly directed Nigel to his house.

It was a short, quiet ride, one that Riff, despite his irritation, didn't want to end. When they pulled up in front the Grady house, Cain unbuckled and turned to Riff again.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked. "I'm going to make some tea."

Riff raised an eyebrow. Tea? It was an extremely tempting offer, and he could clearly see Cain was anticipating a yes. He took a deep breath, and steeled himself. "No thank you. I must be heading home myself."

Cain's expression went from smug to surprised to disappointed to irritated and then back to smug in the course of three seconds. "Of course," he said. "I shan't keep you any longer. However," his eyes gleamed and a sly, catlike smile slowly made its was onto his face, "there is one thing I have to do before I go."

Riff watched warily as the other boy leaned toward him. His heart beat grew faster and his breath quickened as the large green eyes loomed closer and closer, Cain's scent filling his nostrils and his hand reaching out. And then, abruptly, Cain backed away.

Riff gasped for air, heat pounding, and he watched Cain hold up a fuzz ball. He blinked, not following at all.

Cain's smile widened. "This was on your shoulder," he said casually. "It was bothering me." He winked at Riff for the second time that day and grabbed his book bag. "Thank you again for the ride," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Riff watched him climb out of the car and head inside the charming Tudor style house. He was still dizzy from Cain's scent, and didn't notice that Nigel was looking at him in the rearview mirror, waiting for instructions.

"Uh, home, please, Nigel," he managed, resting his head on the window, and breathing deeply, trying to get his bearings.


	6. Chapter 6

*Holds up ragged pages from dark recesses of pit I've been holed up in for days* Well, it's finally here! OTL Sorry about the wait everyone. I've had so much shite to do for school that it's a miracle I'm even alive right now. But I finished, so it's okay! :D I promise the next chapter won't take as long to write. I'll pull a bunch of all-nighters if I have to! *sparkly-eyed determination*

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Cain watched the Mercedes pull away from behind the door. He then made his way to the kitchen to make himself some tea, smiling smugly. On the way, he spotted his mom sitting in the living room at the computer. His parents were both writers, his mom a novelist trying to be published and his father a journalist, so they worked from home.

Aleecia looked up as he passed. "You're home early," she said, surprised.

"Hm? Oh, right," he said. "I got a ride."

His mom raised an eyebrow. "Really? From who?"

Cain resisted a grin. "A friend."

She nodded. "That was certainly nice of them. I hope you thanked them properly."

"Of course I did," he said, choking back a laugh. "I'm going to make some tea and do my homework, okay?"

Aleecia smiled fondly at her son. "All right. Dinner's at six." She turned back to work.

_Well, this is a most interesting development_, Cain thought as he set to work at his laptop with his tea sitting next to him. _And quite ironic, if I do say so myself._

He was referring to Riff's apparent ability to hire a chauffeur. This meant he had money, which was the last thing Cain had expected. In their past lives, he'd been the one with money; he'd been an earl, for crying out loud! In fact, Riff had been his butler. Now though, as Cain found out by Googling Riff's name, Riff was the son of an immensely wealthy politician and he, Cain, was just an average Joe. This might have bothered some people; even irritated them, but Cain merely found it rather amusing. Oh, the irony.

Vaguely, Cain wondered if Riff liked being rich. It was so hard to tell with him. He never gave anything away, even in London all those years ago. _Although,_ Cain reflected smugly as he recalled the events of the day, _he certainly did have quite a bit of trouble keeping up his façade of cool disinterest today._

He blinked, and found himself staring at a picture of Riff on his computer screen. He sighed disgustedly and sharply pushed the laptop shut with a _snap!_ Cain had never been a patient person, and this waiting and watching was driving him absolutely mad. He didn't know how much more he would be able to take.

"Not eating again, Cain?" Tami said, sitting down with a tray of food the next afternoon at lunch.

Cain gave her a mild smile. "As I have said before, Tami, I don't eat in the afternoon."

"Right," she said.

"So," CJ said conversationally. "Any plans this weekend, Cain?"

Cain shrugged. "Not really. I was planning on doing some resear…" He trailed off, having caught sight of something he'd not noticed before; Riff was sitting across the cafeteria.

"Cain?" Tami said, waving her hand in front of his face.

"Sorry, what?" he said, coming back, but not taking his eyes from Riff's face.

"What are you looking at?" CJ asked, turning around to follow Cain's gaze. "Oh. Riff Reynolds."

Cain looked at CJ. "Do you know him?"

CJ snorted. "Hardly. No one really does."

Tami nodded. "He's right. I live near him, and the only thing I know is that his dad is, like, mayor or something."

"His dad is _Congressman_," CJcorrected. "And Reynolds is cocky as hell about it. He struts around like he owns the place and doesn't talk to hardly anyone. That blank expression never leaves his face either. It's like he thinks he's so above everyone else just because he's got money."

Tami shook her head. "I don't think so," she disagreed. "I've talked to him a couple of times, and he's always really nice. I just think he's shy."

CJ snorted. "Right."

Cain glanced back over at Riff while the other two argued. As he watched, Riff happened to look up and they locked eyes. Cain grinned and winked, and Riff's pale cheeks flushed a light pink. Without warning, Riff stood, and threw away his tray of food that he'd literally taken three bites out of, then walked out of the cafeteria.

Cain glanced at his watch; there was still a half hour or so left in the period. He thought for a minute, and then stood as well, stretching. "I think I'm gonna go to class," he told his friends.

They both looked up, frowning. "We still have, like, half the period left," Tami said.

Cain nodded. "I know. But I have to go talk to Mr. Evans about something."

CJ grinned. "You never did tell us how you managed to get put in that class. It's supposed to be strictly sophomores."

He gave CJ a smile and a half shrug. "I'm just lucky I guess."

"Einstein, morel likely," CJ muttered, and Cain left.

Cain decided to check the bathroom first, and when it proved empty, he checked all the others. _I'm not a stalker, NOOO_, he laughed to himself as he came out of the last one, defeated. He thought for another minute, and then made his way to Mr. Evans' room. Maybe Riff was there.

When he opened the door, Mr. Evans looked up, surprised, and, in the back, Riff's head snapped up. His eyes widened, and he looked almost like a deer caught in headlights. Cain repressed both a triumphant grin and a laugh.

"Mr. Grady," Mr. Evans remarked. "You're early." He turned to Riff. "Mr. Reynolds, I do hope you're not influencing this type of behavior in the underclassmen."

Riff shook his head mutely, and Cain said, "Oh, no, Mr. Evans. Of course not. I didn't even know he was here."  
Mr. Evans' wry smirk clearly said he didn't believe him. "Well, let's not make this a regular thing, shall we?"

"Right, sir," Cain said, walking slowly to his seat. "Fancy meeting you here," he said smoothly as he sat.

Riff's face was visibly torn between several different emotions. "What are you doing here?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I thought I'd find out why you ran away," Cain told him, smirking, and pretending to be studying his notes.

Riff frowned, expression finally settling on annoyed. "I did _not_ run away!"

Cain simply raised a fluid eyebrow at him, and then turned back to his notebook.

"You really shouldn't go following people around like this," Riff continued.

"And why not?" Cain asked, amused and without looking up.

"Because it's weird," Riff said.

"How do you know I was following you?" Cain countered. "What if we merely had the same idea?" Riff opened his mouth, but stopped. Cain grinned.

"I noticed you were sitting by yourself in the cafeteria," he commented after a minute.

"So?" Riff said.

"So, I think that's a rather miserable thing to do. No wonder you come here instead."

Riff frowned. "I don't really care one way or another. I come here so I'm able to read in peace; that was, until _you_ showed up."

Cain grinned at him, unruffled, and then the bell rang.


	7. Chapter 7

Aha! Told you it wouldn't take as long for this one! :D I'll try to get you the next chapter asap, and seeing as I have a whole weekend to work on it, I don't think it'll take too long. Please enjoy and review!

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"Hello stranger."

Riff blinked and looked up from his crossword puzzle. It was the following day, and he was at lunch. Cain was standing across from him. For once, he wasn't looking devious or smug; he was simply smiling in an open, friendly way.

Riff, however was still wary. "Yes?"

"Is this seat taken?" Cain asked him.

Riff's eyes traveled from Cain to the empty chair, and back again, oddly disappointed. "Uh, no. It's not. Go ahead and take it if you need it." He was about to turn back to his work when Cain pulled the chair out and sat down with an elegant little plop. Riff's jaw dropped slightly.

Cain said nothing, but regarded him with an eyebrow cocked and a smirk, the expression he seemed to wear quite a lot. He unscrewed the cap of a bottle of water Riff just realized he'd brought with him, and brought it to his lips. "Soir," he said, when he put it down.

"Excuse me?" Riff asked, taken aback, but managing to pull himself together.

Cain pointed to Riff's crossword. "Four letter French word for 'evening.' It's soir."

Riff looked down and saw that that was the word he'd been stuck on. He frowned slightly and penciled it in.

"Why do you do this?" he asked, not looking at the boy across from him.

"Do what?" Cain replied, and Riff could hear the smile in his voice.

"I don't know," he said, frustrated, motioning around with his left hand. "_This_. This following thing you seem to like."

"Who said I was following you?" Cain asked him. "I simply saw you were by yourself again, so I thought I'd give you a bit of company."

Riff slammed his pencil down, patience run out. Cain looked surprised, and he took great satisfaction in that. "I really do not know _what_ to think of you!" he exclaimed. "First time I see you, you pass out for no apparent reason, and then, when you wake up you start babbling like a madman, and somehow know my name! Then, you act like everything's perfectly normal, and start following me around, acting like you know something about me I don't, even though I've only known you four days! Are you simply annoying, or are you insane!?" It was one of the longest speeches Riff had ever made. He was beyond irritated; this boy was hands down the single most infuriating individual he'd ever met.

Cain blinked slowly, and leaned forward on his elbows, linking his fingers together and looking at Riff intensely. "I apologize. I am aware you must be confused, and you probably hate me, but I can't really explain anything to you without causing you to think I'm even _more_ insane."

Riff took a deep, steadying breath, and let it out slowly. "You still haven't answered my question. _Why?"_

Cain leaned back in his chair again. "Is it so strange that I want to be your friend?" he asked mildly.

Riff blinked, a little stunned. "What?"

"This is what friends do, after all," Cain continued, taking another sip of water.

"They irritate each other to the point of contemplating homicide?"

Cain laughed. "No, silly. They eat lunch together." He gestured for Riff to look around at the groups of people sitting together, eating. "And they hang out together."

"Oh." Riff thought about that, and then went back to his puzzle.

They passed the rest of the period in silence, Riff working diligently and Cain taking occasional drink.

Over the next few weeks, Riff became accustomed to having Cain virtually attached to his side. Once he'd gotten over the initial annoyance, he found he liked the company. Cain was…entertaining, to say the least.

There was one thing that did bother Riff a little about Cain, though. Being around Cain did odd things to him. He'd never had reason to question his sexuality before, but then again he'd never had reason NOT to. Riff had always assumed he was straight, but now he wasn't so sure. Every time Cain was within a three foot radius, his entire body was hyper-tuned to his location and he found it hard to concentrate on much else. Looking at Cain made his heart beat a mile a minute and he felt flushed a lot; occasionally, he even felt weak in the knees.

Not only that, though, but Cain's presence often caused intense feelings of déjà vu, and he always felt like he was missing something. It was truly bizarre.

A month and a half after Cain's arrival in San Francisco, as they were on their way to Mr. Evans', Cain sighed melodramatically.

Riff smiled a bit; he'd learned that Cain was a very theatrical person, so his over the top behavior didn't have a lot of effect on him anymore. "What's with the sigh?"

"My parents are worried I don't have enough friends or something. They're worried I'm going to develop a social disorder."

Riff raised his eyebrows. "Is that your way of inviting me to your house, or asking if I'll invite you over to mine?" Hey, he wasn't the most experienced person as far as friends went, but he wasn't an idiot.

Cain laughed. "Essentially, yes. I was hoping to guilt you into inviting me over. Is it working?"

Riff's smile widened. "Maybe. You think your parents will mind if you just don't come home this afternoon?"

Cain grinned. "Nah. I'll call and let them know, if this is a serious offer."

Riff nodded, holding the door to their class open so Cain could go in first. "Yes. I'm not doing anything this afternoon, so I don't really see a problem with you being there." He wasn't sure why, but he was positive he was going to regret this.

They weaved their way to their seats, and Riff ignored the two or three people who still found it necessary to stare at the two of them. For the first week or so of their friendship, everyone had gawked at them openly. The fact that Riff Reynolds was talking and eating with another person had caused quite a stir, for some reason. Most of it had died down, but he still got a few funny looks sometimes; right now, for instance.

Of course, it didn't bother Riff. He didn't care what other people thought. In fact, he found it entertaining that the slightest change was enough to cause such a disturbance.

After class, Riff lead Cain out to the car where Nigel was waiting. The chauffeur was no longer flabbergasted by the other young man. Cain's appearance was a regular occurrence now.

"Nigel," Riff said, sliding into the car. "Cain's coming home with us today."

So much for not being flabbergasted.

"Pardon me, sir?" Nigel asked, turning around, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"Cain is coming to my house today," Riff repeated.

Nigel was at a loss. He opened and closed his mouth several times, much like Cain's first meeting with him. "Very well, sir," Nigel sighed, staring the car.

Cain climbed in, finished talking with his mother. "Hello Nigel," he said.

"Buckle please," Riff said, like he did every other day. Cain didn't seem to be able to remember unless he was told.

He sighed. "Honestly, Riff. I don't know why you insist on telling me that every day. I'm not a child."

"Child or not, seat belts are there for a reason. Don't you pay attention in physics?"

Cain frowned, but obeyed. Riff smiled, and they pulled away from the curb.

Riff lived in a large house on the outskirts of town. It was three stories tall and the length of two and a half houses combined. There were many windows, and a large garden out front. Riff watched Cain stare up at it as Nigel parked the Mercedes in the driveway.

He tapped Cain's shoulder lightly. "You can get out now," he said, getting out himself.

"This is a really big house," Cain commented as he opened the door.

Riff nodded. "A little too big," he said, and they walked up the front steps. Inside, though, he was at a loss. What now?

"Uhm, are you hungry?" he asked awkwardly.

Cain smiled. "A little."

"Okay, follow me," Riff said, leading the way to the kitchen, which, just like the rest of the house, was huge.

"Uh, just take a seat," he told the other boy, gesturing to the table by the window. "Is there anything in particular you want?"

"I'm not picky," Cain said pleasantly. "If it's not too much trouble though, I do normally have tea about this time."

Riff nodded and got to work, setting a kettle of water on the stove to heat. "Pie?" he asked, turning to see Cain grinning as he watched him. Riff felt his face flush.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

Cain looked mildly taken aback, and then his face took on the kindest expression Riff had ever seen him wear. He stood up from the table and came over to where Riff was standing.

"Of course not," he murmured, brushing Riff's bangs off of his face, causing Riff's flush to darken and his heart rate to speed up. "How could I laugh at you?"

Riff stared down into Cain's mesmerizing green eyes and his breath quickened when he realized Cain was leaning in closer. Their faces were only inches apart.

"I have a question," Cain whispered into his ear, moving his hand onto Riff's, which was resting on the counter.

Riff had to remind himself to breathe. "Yes?" he gasped.

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Cain asked in the same low, seductive tone.

Riff's brow creased in confusion. "What?" He was having a hard time keeping a coherent train of thought.

Just then the door to the kitchen opened and his father came in. The color drained from Riff's face, and Cain quickly backed away, but there was no getting around it; they'd been caught. Riff wasn't sure what it looked like from across the room, but he was sure it was NOT good.

There was a moment of dead silence as Riff's father took in the scene. Finally, he sucked in a sharp breath. "Who," he began, voice dangerously low, "are you, and what are you doing in my house?"

For the first time ever, Riff saw Cain look nervous. He cleared his throat. "I'm Cain Grady, sir. I'm a friend of Riff's."

Mr. Reynolds' head swiveled toward his son. "Riff?"

Riff gulped and nodded slowly.

His father's eyes narrowed, but he turned back to Cain. "I want you out of this house this instant, and I never want to see you here again. Do you understand?"

Cain nodded and made to go out.

"Wait," Riff said. "You need a ride."

Cain smiled weakly. "Don't worry about that. I'll get a cab."

Riff frowned. Even with his father there, he couldn't help feel the need to make sure Cain was going to be all right. "No, that's unnecessary. Nigel can –,"

Cain shook his head. "No, I can't do that. I'll be fine in a taxi. I promise."

With that, he slipped out of the kitchen and Riff turned to face his father.


	8. Chapter 8

Ahahaha, yeah, so I know I said I would write this over the weekend in the last chapter, but I got distracted by tons of Host Club fanfics and could think of almost nothing else all week. But I did it! It's finished! Yay! *caramelldansen* OTL Yes, also, I know I've been switching between switching the narration focus with chapters, but I'm planning on the next chapter to be the last one (Egad! O.O), and I think I'm going to do something like the prologue and have part of the chapter surrounding Riff and the other Cain. I might even do three parts, and have it be TWO parts Riff and one part Cain. (Again, Egad!) But I suppose I'll see how it pans out. Sorry for the long A/N, but I thought I should warn you before I go and switch up the story focus on you guys. :) Well, enjoy!

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Cain was pretty much freaking out the whole ride home. He couldn't stop thinking about Riff. What if Riff got hurt? It'd be all his fault.

Aleecia was surprised when she saw her son come in. "I thought you were going over to a friend's house?"

"I did," he told her distractedly.

"I thought you'd be longer, though."

Cain glanced up. "Oh, well, he had things he needed to do, that he'd forgotten about."

"Oh." His mom thought about that. "Okay."

"I'm gonna go do some homework," he told her, jogging up the stairs before she could reply.

"Cell phone," he muttered to himself, tearing his room apart to look for it. "Cell phone, cell phone, cell – Aha!" He flipped it open and scrolled down to Riff's number.

_R u ok?_ He texted, waiting with bated breath for a reply.

It seemed like ages, but finally, the phone buzzed. _Yes. I'm ok,_ was the reply.

Cain let out a sigh of relief. _I am so sorry. Didn't mean 2 get u in2 any trouble._

_I don't really care. He never pays any attention to what I do anyway. No harm done._

_U sure?_ He was anxious, even with Riff's reassurances.

_Definitely. See you tomorrow_.

Cain sighed. This was going to be a long night.

In the morning, Cain scanned the crowd of students, looking for Riff. When he saw him, he pushed his way through the crowd and threw his arms around Riff's neck. He felt Riff tense under his touch, but he didn't care.

"Oh Riff," he murmured into his neck, "I was so worried."

"Uhm, I'm grateful for your concern, Cain, but would you mind letting go?" Riff asked uncomfortably. "You're causing a scene."

He was right; everyone in the hall was staring at them with undisguised shock. Unwillingly, Cain pulled away, and he couldn't help but grin when he saw Riff's face was maroon.

Riff straightened his tie, not meeting Cain's eyes. "Perhaps you should get to class. I'll see you at lunch." He hurried away, Cain smirking behind him.

Lunch was the typical quiet event for the two boys. Riff worked on homework the whole time, and Cain could tell he'd rather be in Mr. Evans' room where there wasn't so much noise, but he stayed in the cafeteria so that he and Cain could sit together and not eat. Normally, this thought would have made Cain smile, but today he was wound up, so the silence made him terribly bored. Suddenly, he was struck with a thought for some entertainment: shameless flirting.

Casually, he stretched, moving his legs forward until he had located one of Riff's. He brushed them together, and then pulled back. "Sorry," he said, as if it had been an accident. Riff made a noise of acknowledgement, not even looking up from his notebook. Hiding a smirk behind his hand, he stretched his leg out again, and, when their legs brushed again, he left them pressed against each other.

That got Riff's attention. Cain watched him blink and then Riff looked up, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. "Cain?"

Cain's foot slipped out of his shoe and ran gently up and down Riff's calf. "Yes, Riff?"

Riff's face was now flaming. "What are you _doing_?" he hissed.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said innocently, continuing to rub Riff's leg with his foot.

Riff jumped up, grabbing his books, and fled the room. Cain sat there, surprised for a minute, and then followed. He knew Riff wasn't going to Mr. Evans' room; that would be the first place he'd think Cain would look for him.

Cain thought hard for a moment and then he realized it. _Aha!_ he thought. _The library!_

Cain made his way upstairs to the school's large library. He'd only been there a couple of times, but he knew the basic layout and began popping in and out of shelves.

Finally he found Riff in the back corner, staring out the window. "Riff?" he said, tentatively.

Riff's head snapped up. "What? What do you want now?"

Cain blinked. The other boy sounded really and truly angry. "I…" He what?

"Cain, I really don't know if I can be your friend anymore," Riff said, and Cain felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Wh-why? Is it your father?"

Riff shook his head sharply. "It's you! I don't know how much more of you I can take!"

Cain went from horrified to furious in the course of about two seconds. "It's me who should be saying that to _you_ after what you've done to me!" he said.

"What could I possibly have done to YOU?" Riff raved.

"You _forgot_ me! You promised me _forever_ and then. You. FORGOT ME!" It took everything Cain had to keep from shouting.

"_What_ are you talking about!?" Riff asked.

"You want to know what I'm talking about? Do you?" Cain asked. "I'll tell you! Does the name Cain Hargreaves ring any kind of bells for you? What about Delilah? Or Earl of Poisons? Do ANY of those mean ANYTHING to you?"

Riff just stared at him blankly.

Cain's teeth gnashed with frustration. "When I asked you about reincarnation last night, it was a serious question. Do you know why? Because that's what happened to us! I'm Cain Hargreaves and you are Riff, my best friend, my confidant, my trusty servant reincarnated. You _have_ to remember it! You MUST!"

The words hung in the air for Riff to digest. It was quiet for several minutes until the bell rang. Neither boy moved.

"You're crazy," Riff whispered eventually. "You're absolutely mad."

"You think so?" Cain said, bitterly.

"I know so," Riff said, gathering his things and making to go. "I knew it as soon as you woke up from that faint." He tried to push past Cain, but the smaller boy grabbed his arm with a surprising amount of force. A different emotion was now dominating Cain's face: desperation.

"Please Riff," he said, holing fast on Riff's arm. "Please. I lost you once. I can't lose you again."

With that, he pulled Riff's face down and locked their lips together.


	9. Chapter 9

To all you readers out there: I. AM. SO. SORRY. for the wait on this chapter, especially with the way the previous one ended. I feel terrible for making you wait, but it's here now!! The final chapter of So Much For Forever! I'm so excited! I hope you all enjoy it, as well as the entire story. Also, I would like to thank all of the reviewers. Without you guys, this probably wouldn't have ever been completed. So congratulate yourselves! *claps* Anyway, without further ado, the conclusion to So Much For Forever.

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Riff stood, frozen as Cain's soft, warm lips pressed against his own. For a moment he couldn't move, couldn't think. And then his body seemed to take on a mind of its own, arms winding around the shorter boy's waist of their own accord and lips moving along perfectly with Cain's. For a second, everything was perfect.

Without warning, his mind exploded in a frenzy of memory and he yanked back sharply from the kiss. He was vaguely aware that Cain was staring at him but all he could do was struggle for air as everything Cain had told him plus a thousand times more flooded his brain.

"Master Cain?" he finally gasped out.

A ghost of a smile passed over Cain's lips and then it was gone as Riff blacked out.

--

When he came to, Riff was still in the library, on the floor. Cain was gone. For a minute, he was disoriented, and then he remembered. It all came back as intense and vivid as before, and he winced.

Slowly, he moved himself into a sitting position, grateful that he was in a remote section of the library so no one had found him. He glanced at his watch and found it had only been a few minutes since he'd passed out. It was still lunch.

Riff sighed and put his head in his hands. He couldn't believe it; any of it. He seriously had screwed up. How could he have forgotten? He'd sworn to Cain back in London that he would be with him forever, and what had he done? Betrayed him, and then forgotten the promise. He was amazed Cain could even look at him after all he'd done.

"Master Cain," he whispered out loud. "Master Cain, forgive me. Please forgive me."

He heaved himself to his feet and gathered his things. He was fully prepared to find his old master and beg for forgiveness in front of everyone, but he was stopped as he tried to leave the library.

"Mr. Reynolds?"

Riff turned, and the librarian handed him an envelope. "This is for you," she said pleasantly.

He nodded distractedly and opened it.

_Son,_

_You're father and I have a conference in New York, and we'll be away for three weeks. You cannot be home alone for all of that time, so you will have to accompany us for the first two or so. You are to leave as soon as you receive this. The office has been informed. We leave in two hours._

_Mother_

Riff stared at the note. This could not be happening. He had to find Cain, beg forgiveness. He couldn't leave for two weeks! And yet, it seemed he had no choice. "I'll be back, Master Cain, and I'll make it up to you. I promise I will."

***

Cain was worried out of his mind, and on the verge of slight madness. It had been almost two weeks since he'd last seen Riff, and his last sight of the older boy had been him crumpled on the ground.

In the library, when Riff had pulled away from their kiss, for a moment, Cain had thought he'd heard him say "Master Cain," but then he'd passed out. Cain had decided he'd be all right and just left him.

But then Riff hadn't shown up for class. And then he hadn't shown up for school the next day, or the day after. Cain was freaking out. He remembered Riff's injuries back in London, and wondered if his body was weakened now as well, and he had something truly wrong with him. And of course, it didn't help that Riff wouldn't answer his cell phone, texts, or email, and Cain was too afraid he'd get Riff into trouble if he called the house phone.

"Mr. Grady? Are you in there?"

Cain's head snapped up from the spot on his desk he was staring at to see Mr. Evans and almost the entire class staring at him.

"Pardon?"

"We were just discussing the Egyptian's slaughter of the European knights in the crusades. Would you care to join us?" Mr. Evans' tone was joking, but his worry was clear.

"Oh, sorry," Cain muttered, looking away.

The lesson continued, and Cain, try as he might to pay attention, was unable to keep his concentration on Mr. Evans. He eventually gave up altogether.

By the time the bell rang, he'd made his decision. The next day was Saturday. He was going to Riff's house and finding out what was going on. The trick was, how to get in without looking like himself?

--

The next afternoon, he rang the bell of the Reynolds' house. He had recently acquired a blonde wig, and a pair of his father's old reading glasses, which he'd popped the lenses out of; a foolproof disguise.

A butler opened the door, stiff and unemotional. "May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm here to help with the mouse problem in the attic," Cain chirped.

The butler raised his eyebrows. "I was not aware we had such a problem, young man."

"Oh, Mr. Reynolds sent for me," he said.

"For _you_?" the butler asked, skeptical.

Cain was losing his patience. "Well, my boss. And my boss sent me ahead to wait for him."

The butler sighed, and showed him into the front hall. "You will stay here until your boss comes, is that clear young man?"

Cain nodded and grinned. "Of course!"

The butler walked away, grumbling, and Cain waited until he was gone to drop the phony smile and get down to business. "Now, where should I look first?"

***

Riff was so happy to be home. New York, in his opinion, sucked. Of course, this might have something to do with its contemptible lack of Cain, but even so, he was intensely relieved to be back in San Francisco.

He glanced up at the clock in his room. It was around two in the afternoon, and he was hungry. Deciding that unpacking could wait, he left to go down to the kitchen. He heard the doorbell ring as he entered, but ignored it. His father had probably wanted something or the other done, so he figured it didn't concern him.

After eating, he made his way back upstairs. In the upstairs hallway, he caught sight of a blonde head peeking out from behind a corner, and frowned. "You there!"

The person jumped and turned to look at Riff, and he almost had a heart attack.

"Master Cain!?"

The boy's face lit up and he ran over. Yes, definitely Master Cain.

"Oh Riff!" the younger boy exclaimed, throwing his arms around Riff's neck. "I was so worried! Where have you been!?"

Riff was shocked, and he pushed away to look at his old master. "Master Cain, what are you doing here? And what on earth are you wearing?"

Cain pouted. "I was worried because you had been gone from school so long, so I decided to sneak in and see what was going on. This is my disguise. And speaking of which, how did you know it was me?" He pulled the glasses off in a rather dramatic movement.

Riff stared at him for a moment, blinking, and then he did something neither he nor Cain could remember him ever doing, in either of his lives. He burst out laughing.

"You," he gasped between bouts of laughter, "you thought I wouldn't recognize you? In _that_!?" He laughed harder.

Cain stood there, at an apparent loss. Riff knew that he had a habit of picking absolutely awful, obvious "disguises" that he thought were brilliant, and Riff had never had the heart to tell him that he was mistaken before. Because of this he knew Cain wouldn't understand why he was laughing, but he couldn't help himself.

Cain frowned at him. "All right, I really do not see what is so amusing about this!" he exclaimed.

Riff pulled himself together, but then did something else that was entirely out of character. He took Cain's wrist and pulled the boy close. "You," he whispered in Cain's ear, gently slipping the wig off of his head. "You are what's so amusing."

He watched Cain gulp. "Riff?" the raven haired boy breathed.

Riff met his eyes with a steady gaze. "Master Cain, please forgive me. I have failed you time and time again. In London, not remembering anything, just now for leaving you and causing you worry; I am not worthy of you. But you still come back for me. Why?"

Cain smiled up at him. "Because I love you, silly. That's why."

Riff heart's leaped into his throat. "You do?"

"Of course I do!" Cain said, pushing Riff's bangs out of his eyes. "How could I not?"

Riff smiled. "I love you, too, Master Cain."

Cain grinned. "I know." And then he stood on his tip toes to bring their lips together. This time, Riff held the boy close, and didn't pull away. Cain tasted as only Cain could, and he never wanted to stop tasting him.

Eventually, they both needed air and Riff pulled back slightly. "I will never fail you again," he promised, pressing his forehead to Cain's. "I swear it."

Cain touched his face gently. "I know you won't."

"I'll be with you forever, and this time I mean it."

"That's all I'm asking for," Cain said, and they kissed again.


End file.
